Dual Cultivation God Returns

"Haa~ haa~ t-that's just cheating... how are you so strong? Haa~", Wei Yuanjie was heavily breathing, sweat running in rivers down his face and neck, the collar of his robes, as well as part of the fabric on his back and sides completely drenched.

He was leaning forward, his hands resting on his slightly bent knees, the sword in his right hand pointing slightly slanted, down to the ground.

He finally plopped onto the ground and then sprawled his hands and feet right in the middle of the small training field of his palace, his expensive and lavishly decorated sword thrown carelessly to the side, haphazardly landing with a series of loud metallic clangs.

"Your Highness are actually quite talented", Wu Long spoke, standing straight in a relaxed yet somehow graceful pose, with an iron fan in one hand, the other hand behind his back.

This time, Wu Long didn't use the style of Soft Power Flow that Sui Luxiao practiced, using the iron fan more directly, but that did not diminish his strength with the weapon at all, simply changed the dynamic.

"Bullshit! You are what... 2-3 years older than me? ...and with lower cultivation... man~ this whole martial arts really might not be my thing~", Wei Yuanjie spoke in a slightly sulking, dispirited manner.

Wu Long chuckled, since in his past life, at Wei Yuanjie's age he was barely at the Revolving Qi Realm, and would be obliterated with just one casual strike, even though his proficiency with weapons already was better than the 9th prince's.

But he could easily picture Wei Yuanjie quitting martial arts after meeting this obstacle.

On their way through the palace, he saw many abandoned hobbies like collections of rare pottery, painting stand with unfinished paintings, music instruments, rare books and scrolls of poetry, and various other extravagant objects filling the palace rooms, no signs of them being touched in recent few years.

'Perhaps if I guide him a bit he might find martial arts interesting again... it would be better for him to pursue that way than to pursue the throne', Wu Long inwardly thought, as the idea of this young man becoming the ruler of this Dynasty spelled disaster for it.

Having come to this thought, he decided that an hour or two of his time in exchange for avoiding doom for an entire country might not be that bad of a deal, "Come on, Your Highness, let's try again. I will go easier on you this time"

The prince raised his head to take a look at Wu Long again, adding, "You've not even shed a droplet of sweat!"

"I prefer to sweat in different company, and due to different activity", Wu Long smiled, causing the 9th prince to show a confused look, but not bothering to explain.

The bodyguard who was silently following them this whole time ever since they left the hall in which Wu Long met with the 5th prince, almost chuckled at Wu Long's comment, raising his hand to cough into it.

Hearing his cough, Wei Yuanjie finally remembered about the presence of this man, who was so similar to his own shadow in behavior, by now he barely noticed him at all. An enlightened look appeared in the prince's eyes the next moment.

"Oh! I got an idea! Why don't you two spar, and I'll watch from the shadow of that terrace", the prince sat up, his movements a bit sluggish from how tired he was as he was pointing with his finger to the bodyguard, and then to a roofed terrace with sofa and refreshments that looked like Heaven itself to him at this moment.

"I cannot take my attention away from your protection, Your Highness", the bodyguard shook his head, though a regret flashed in his eyes.

He watched Wu Long's spar with the prince and was profoundly impressed with how this young man was so skilled.

"Come on~! You're not the only bodyguard Mother sent, there are these four!", Wei Yuanjie pointed to one of the four guards who only joined them on the territory of the palace.

A hesitation appeared in the eyes of the bodyguard, as he looked at the prince and then Wu Long.

The four guards that the prince was talking about were in fact a match for him if they worked together, so it did stand to reason that spending just a bit of time on a spar would not hurt that much.

Wu Long thought for a moment, and then lightly nodded to the bodyguard, who was in the 8th level of Essence Gathering Realm.

The latter's doubts were done with that, and as Wei Yuanjie went to the terrace, the bodyguard entered the light of the two suns on the training field, taking out a Nine Ring Broadsword.

"Good weapon, I am curious what the main one is if this is the spare", Wu Long commented, noting that the bodyguard took out only a low-level 2nd tier Profound Grade treasure, not a high-level one that would suit his cultivation and status.

"I cannot claim to have won the spar if my weapon is superior", the man spoke as he looked at Wu Long, implying that Wu Long's iron fan was likely also not his weapon, since it was only a low-level 1st-tier Profound Grade weapon.

Wu Long folded the iron fan and stashed it into the Spatial Ring, taking out the Iron Leaf, the high-level 1-st tier Profound Grade sword he obtained after killing an Elder of the Seven Extreme Swords Sect.

The bodyguard slightly frowned since his weapon was still superior, even though now it was not to the same extent, but seemingly did not have a 1st-tier weapon to match.

The two moved in circular motion in a moderate pace, and out of nowhere exchanged two strikes without much dancing around beforehand.

The bodyguard narrowed his eyes, as the nine rings on the backside of his broadsword made absolutely the same sound for both strikes.

'He really is a Master... unbelievable... to meet someone so young and already so terrifying...', the man thought as he looked at Wu Long's calm expression.

Their weapons clashed a few more times, in probing strikes, and then began intensifying.

Wu Long's movements were calm and deliberate, each move of his sword serving a clear purpose, and yet it looked beautiful, as the patterns of light reflecting off of his sword had a strange allure to them.

At first, the bodyguard thought it was just Wu Long's sword style, but very gradually started noticing that something was strange.

Wu Long wasn't particularly pushing him, but occasionally intensified his attacks, forcing him to maintain a certain relative position, and not circle around.

'It's as if he's... showing...', he thought and then inwardly gasped, as he finally realized that Wu Long was deliberately moving in a way that showed swordsmanship to the prince, the latter sitting directly to their side and thus able to see their movements clearly, looking with livened up eyes as the scene truly drew him in.

At that moment, the bodyguard's emotions split into three.

From one side, he was slightly irritated that their spar was treated in this way, and that it showed a certain disinterest from Wu Long in this spar, while the bodyguard was genuinely engaged in it.

On another side, he restrained the first emotion, as he was willing to play that role if it served the interests of the one he was protecting.

And on the third side, he was in awe of Wu Long's skill, realizing that this sword style that looked very good visually, and yet was simple and understandable in its purposes might not even be the style that Wu Long actually is practicing mainly, and yet using it, he is able to not only be on par with the bodyguard, but to control the pace and the position of his opponent without them noticing for a long time.

However, as Wu Long noticed that his purpose with the prince was reached and his interest in sword arts was reignited, he did a series of moves that were markedly different from the whole fight before, instantly cornering the bodyguard and putting the tip of the sword at his throat.

The bodyguard's eyes widened with both shock and awe, as he realized that now, Wu Long showed his respect to him as well, by finishing the spar with just a few real moves.

As they both took a step back, the bodyguard deeply bowed as he made the hand and fist salute with the weapon pointing toward the ground, while Wu Long did the usual one he always did.